


Quiet

by SylvieandtheQuietRoom



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hbday Kokichi, I luv u darling, Kokichi tries to hide from his bday, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Shuuichi ain't having it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieandtheQuietRoom/pseuds/SylvieandtheQuietRoom
Summary: Kokichi pretends to be sick to hide from celebrating his birthday. A certain friend of his isn't having that.





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... This is just a little oneshot I wrote for Kokichi's birthday. I didn't spend too much time on it, so don't expect much, lol.

Kokichi Ouma didn't like birthdays.

They were uncomfortable, pointless, frightening, _loud_. Ouma never did like loud things.

So each year when that dreadful day rolled around, inevitably, he did everything he could to avoid it. 

It was the night before the storm. Ouma sprawled out on his bed covers, soft, velvety fabric sliding underneath his skin as he stared blankly at the ceiling. His head swarmed with thoughts, a never-ending mudslide that built upon a never-ending headache. His mind throbbed.

 _Maybe they'll forget this year. Maybe they won't insist on yanking me off somewhere_.

Ouma loved his parents, he truly did. They returned the feeling with equal enthusiasm. Unfortunately for him, this meant birthdays were a big deal.

 _It's a one of a kind day today! You only get it once a year!_  
Why does that matter? It's not like he ever planned on sticking around to watch the world keep turning. After all, he had made a promise to Shuuichi. They would die together one day.

_Shuuichi._

Ouma's best and only friend. Deathly obsessed with Danganronpa, the reality television show where teenagers were forced to kill each other for the audience's entertainment. Shuuichi had befriended him in the first place because of their similar interests.

Shuuichi talked a lot. Ouma could safely say that ninety percent of that was Danganronpa related, and another five eventually led to that topic. It was kind of concerning, really. It was hard to have a normal conservation with him. Ouma never minded that, though. Oftentimes, they'd fall into a comfortable silence, shallow breaths and soft shuffles filling the empty space.

He would have to avoid Shuuichi, too. No doubt would Shuuichi question him about his sudden absense, but he could always conjure up some façade to wear.

Ouma just needed quiet. Even in a quiet space, however, his mind just couldn't seem to shut up.

He blinked slowly, his vision going fuzzy and the hum of passing cars fading in and out of his ears. He stared at the ceiling, noting each dent and bump, every mark of imperfection.

The ceiling stared back. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunlight streamed through the diaphanous curtains, casting a soft glow over Ouma's face as he slowly gained consciousness.

 _Awfully bright sun for such a dreary day_.

Ouma faceplanted back into his pillow, groaning. He took a long breath and rolled over, staring at the red numbers on the clock beside his bed. 

_6:45. I should be getting ready._

...

_Not today, though._

He grabbed his phone from the dark wood of the bedside table, opening his Danganronpa chat room app and scrolling through the comments. He was interrupted with a gentle knock on the door.

"Kokichi? Are you alright?"

 _Ah, of course. Mom came to check on me_.

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm just not feeling too well. Is it alright if I stay home today?"

"Oh, of course, sweetheart. You deserve a day off. It is your birthday after all."

 _Forever a flat character. I love her, but I doubt she will ever really understand me_.

He listened to her footsteps fade away as he blinked at his phone. The constant whirl of thoughts thundered in his mind. 

Loud, loud, _loud_.

_Today will be over eventually._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A small, simple knock on his door. Ouma didn't look up from the screen of the phone.

"Come in..." He murmured.

The door creaked open. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught familiar colors he was most certainly not expecting to see today. Soft, dark blue hair fell gently around his face, gambogeish grey eyes met his violet ones from across the room. 

"Sh- Shuuichi?"

"Hello, Kokichi," Saihara greeted with a bright smile.

He sauntered over to Ouma's bed, making a poor attempt to hide a bag tucked behind his back. Perching on the side of the bed, he pulled the bag out from behind him. Ouma could now clearly see it was decorative; a Monokuma face was printed onto the paper, accompanied by a black and white striped bow. A tag on the strings of the bag read, 'Happy birthday, Kokichi' in Saihara's distinct handwriting.

"How did you... No, nevermind that," Ouma half whispered. He gently tugged on the string tying the bag together, allowing the knot to slip past his fingers. After pulling out various layers of scrunched up papers, the gift was revealed. 

It was a plushie of $#^>○=*. He'd seen it in a merchandise shop with Shuuichi a while back, and Shuuichi seemed to notice his liking for it. Ouma had always looked up to $#^>○=* as someone strong, independent, and a great leader. $#^>○=* was everything he wished he could be for his loved ones.

Ouma ran his fingers across the cotton fabric of the doll, tracing each seam and patch. He looked back up to Shuuichi, who was watching him intently. Tears welled up into Ouma's eyes, the static ever present in his mind, booming consistently.

"Shuuichi-kun... thank you."

And, to Kokichi's surprise, no words were said on Shuuichi's part. Instead, he found himself wrapped in the warm, comforting embrace of Saihara's arms. His mind went blank, the static and roaring waves of his mind halted.

 _Quiet_.

 _Peace_.

Ouma's arms wrapped around Saihara's back, returning the embrace, enraptured by the warmth. He shut his eyes.

Kokichi Ouma hates birthdays. 

But maybe he'd just been experiencing them with the wrong company.

**Author's Note:**

> I read through this and my first thought was, "Wow, this is boring." I'm making do, though... :)  
> If you managed to get this far, thank you for reading! I really appreciate it! This is my first time posting anything other than comments on any platform, ever, so I'm kinda nervous...  
> Anyways, thank you for your read, and celebrate World Ouma Day to the fullest!  
> ~Sylvie-chan


End file.
